


Arrhizal

by SunnyD_lite



Category: Firefly
Genre: Gen, Spoilers for all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-16
Updated: 2007-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-07 17:38:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyD_lite/pseuds/SunnyD_lite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>River is a little lost -- in every way possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrhizal

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Arrhizal. This is a type of plant without roots that use other plants as a base. Some are parasites, some are symbiotes.  
> Disclaimer: I didn't create, nor do I own, anything to do with Firefly or its characters. No profit, no harm, right?  
> A/N: My thanks to **spiralleds** for her betaing. All errors are my own. Um River is the POV character, so it's not too linear. In fact her thoughts interrupt each other. This is indicated with ( ) and Nai Nai means grandmother.

We were explorers. We were Alliance. We hid and were found. Only one constant: we were together; until we weren't. We're together now, but different from before. I'm different. Sometimes when I hide, I'm still standing in front of him. But today it's like before, even if he doesn't know it. I followed the sound of the dance and I saw when he found me. But the next spin round he wasn't there. So it was my turn to find him.

He wasn't happy when I did. New people. New place. But Simon was worried. I said, "Daddy will come and take us home."

I looked at Simon and saw Daddy turn away from him. From us. It cut to the quick when Simon said (Simon says put your hands on your head) that Daddy wasn't coming.

It cut, so I was set free from those roots. It hurt because Simon lost those roots, too. Though this was good for Simon. Roots attach, but roots tie down. I'm watching him grow, reaching for the sunlight; using talents he didn't know he had.

And he looks after me. He's always looked after me. He always will. Present. Past. Future. They all mix in my mind and I'm not sure when I am.

Eyes opened or closed, binary system. On or off. But I see not binary, the horrors I see are legion.

Round a bulkhead. Hiding huddled behind crates. Why are we here? Where is here? We're waiting for death. It's marching, not marching, not orderly. They're coming. Their anger and blood-lust crowd my mind, tempting me towards their madness while the crew's fear sends frostbite up my spine.

Not Jayne. Not Zoe. Soldier calm. Focused. Deadly. Quiet.

Too loud. Too much. Jayne and Zoe aren't enough, the walls aren't solid enough. Down, down. Ophelia's flowers: rosemary for remembrance. But how can I remember what isn't mine? Am I drowning? Or will I be?

Future. That's future, not now. Simon's here. Don't need the needle. Don't want it. Never know what's inside it, what's inside me. Different flavor. Different result. Can't predict. Not scientific if you can't predict. School sometimes narrowed down to the tip of a needle.

I shake my head and feel my hair move around my neck. It's free, therefore I'm free. I'm not at school, not tied down. Simon found me. Simon will find me. Simon's finding me when I've lost myself. Even if I'm still standing right here.

The sunlight beat hot pounding down on us like strokes on a kettledrum. Steady continuous. Didn't matter. We were hiding under the leaves on top of the ropey roots of the hodgeberry bush (Rubus Pingius). The gold dappled on Simon's face, shifting shadow and light. Simon thinks he is straight forward (Simple Simon met a pie man.) Maybe we could carry enough berries for a pie.

I was watching Simon when "Ouch!"

He's there, gently pulling my hand open from the pain induced fist. He coos and finger by finger examines it with tender touches.

"Silly rabbit, you were the one warning me of the thorns. What have we here?" He pulls out the multi-blade knife I gave him last birthday, and forces the splintered thorn out of my palm.

"There's the trouble. Do you want to keep it?" (What doesn't kill you makes you stronger) So I nod. He smiles one of his grins like he's pleased with my silliness. He's always pleased with me, even when I tell him he's wrong. He looks after me. He finds me.

That was not now. That was Before. It must have been before, my hand's bigger now. Or is it? It's not orderly in my brain. A library with all the books tossed on the floor. Never sure if this is now. Roots. I was thinking about Arrhizal plants. Plants without roots. Plants that cling to those around them. Plants that move.

And we move. Serenity never stays still. Thudding and humming and moving. Kaylee can hear her almost as well as I can. She likes being free. She likes this crew. The others don't hear how she sings in flight and chortles on take off. But sometimes I think that the Captain does. His brow furrows when she's hurt. Like Simon's does when he can't follow me, when he doesn't think he's helping me.

It was a long game of hide and seek. So long I had to send him clues. It wasn't a good hiding spot. Some parts were fun. New dances. New noisy and quiet tools. Cause. Effect. Calculate the angles. Plan for the ricochet. Soft body parts that slice easily. Things I didn't learn on the Cordex. Chemistry; what to mix to stop the thud-thudding in the chest. To make the lungs pump and pump but do no work. They said it was a game, but some parts hurt.

He found me - slow poke. He found me and took me away. He ran gentle hands, doctor's hands, over me to make sure none of the bits were broken. No multi-blade can fix these splinters. In between learning new things, they shattered the old. All broken like the special vases (Ming Dynasty, very valuable. A present to great-great-ever-so-great Nai Nai from the leader of the colony.) Don't run inside the house, River - slipping sliding knocking one two vases down smash crash. All the little pieces mingled on the floor. I tried and tried to put it back together but which piece went where? Some lost; some too much for one vase. Simon tried to help. He always tries to help.

Visualization. A game they played to control pain. Blink, picture my brain. I see the scattered shards of vases splattered across the hallways floor. And we didn't have time to stop and make sure we picked up all the pieces of my mind. Is it all still in there? Is it only IT in there? I think there's more, but what more could it be? I don't want it.

They sometimes showed us captures of our families. Reminding us of why good behaviour is necessary. (They're not Simon, don't have to do what THEY say.) I watched him drowning in expectations. He became a doctor. He helped people. He never laughed. Never smiled a real smile. I need him; I always have. But after those captures, he needs me too.

Arrhizals can be parasites. I thought I was. I take and take. I pulled him from his world into no one's world. But maybe roots can change. Serenity likes us. She hums when we're on board. Or maybe the nurse was right, and life chooses you.

Future. Present. Past. They dance and dance inside my mind with only one constant: Simon. I used to see home in the dance but more and more I see the crew. I see Serenity.

Daddy didn't come. All tied up with fire at my feet. Daddy didn't come to the school; Simon did. Tied to a stake. Daddy didn't come to the rescue; the crew came. Serenity came.

Daddy isn't home. Not any more. Roots nourish and Simon was starving when he found me. Simon is home. He feeds me. He knows me. He loves me and always will. And someday I will look after him. Serenity is home. Safety. Love. A place for us. And with Serenity, our roots have wings. We are Arrhizal. We find each other.


End file.
